


Sunrise

by Elise_Davidson



Series: 40 Snapshots [24]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: 25. Sunrise, 40 Snapshots, Alien Rituals, M/M, ice climbing - Freeform, shran is being shran, talla is mentioned, there's a sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 01:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elise_Davidson/pseuds/Elise_Davidson
Summary: Shran and Archer climb an ice cliff on Andoria.  Cultural misunderstandings ensue.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Sunset](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10478913) by [Elise_Davidson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elise_Davidson/pseuds/Elise_Davidson). 



> Author’s Notes: As a quick heads-up, I took some liberty with the Aenar culture. Since there’s not a whole lot we know about them being as they were only very briefly mentioned in ST:ENT and I couldn’t find anything suggesting otherwise, I put in a slight plot manipulation to put our favorite boys together without killing Jhamel for once.
> 
> On that note, I actually like Jhamel’s character; I swear. It’s been brought to my attention that I conveniently kill her off when writing Archer/Shran, and I wanted to go a different route this time.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“You know, I’m all for furthering cultural acceptance and knowledge between our two species, but this seems awfully early—even for a starship captain—to be awake.”

Shran tilted his head condescendingly at Archer.  “And here I thought you liked this whole “federation” idea, pinkskin.  How can you possibly understand anything about Andorians if you don’t know our traditions?  Our initiations?  Our culture?”

“And getting up to go ice-climbing before the sun is even up is one of your rites of passage, I expect.”

“Only the best.  You’re a little…well, more elderly than most Andorians who do this, but this will go far with my superiors if they know you made the effort.”

There was a smirk on Shran’s face and a crook to one of his antennae that indicated he didn’t think Archer would make it up.

Of course, Shran had no clue that Archer was an avid rock climber, which was to say nothing of the numerous hikes he had taken through glacial parks on Earth.

Archer twirled the ice axe in his hand, having made sure to become more familiar with it since their duel.  He looked the ice cliff up, unable to see much in the pitch of night.  There was an oddly dark blue glow to the night here, something not present on Earth.  It seemed to erupt as a bioluminescence within the atmosphere.

It was decidedly calming, seeing as Shran himself seemed less restless.  It could have been being on his home planet, however.

“You do remember I’ve been through the ice caves with the Aenar, right?” Archer asked as they began securing gear and harnesses.  “You nearly lost a leg, as I recall.”

“It was a flesh wound,” Shran responded dryly.  “And those were caves, not cliffs.  To be completely honest, I’m only allowing these ropes and yokes because you insisted.”

“You really want one of us to leave a trail going down if we fall?” Archer asked warily.  “I’m here to climb this cliff with you, aren’t I?”

Shran grunted an assessment, tightening various latches and hitches on the gear Archer had provided.  “And if you are really here to prove your worth in the Andorian fashion, then you won’t fall, and, consequently, wouldn’t need these contraptions.”

Archer rolled his eyes with little malice.  “Shall we climb?”

They scaled the cliff in relative silence, Shran giving unneeded tips and Archer accepting them in a good-natured fashion.  The remarks stopped after half an hour, as Archer gradually proved that he wasn’t exactly a novice climber.  The deep blue of the sky began to shift as they ascended closer to the apex, lightening gradually as the sun began to threaten its arrival.

Experienced in climbing, yes, but even Archer was feeling some strain as he heaved himself onto the plateau of the top of the cliff.  “How old did you say Andorians are when they do their first climb?”

Shran swung himself easily over the ledge.  “Talla will be doing it next year.”

Archer visibly balked at the idea of a 7-year-old making the climb, but didn’t remark on it.  “I’m sure she’ll be her father’s daughter.”

Shran nodded, kneeling at the edge of the cliff and staring off into the horizon of stunted mountain growth held back by glaciers.  It was almost as if both had grown together without the approval of the other.  It was twisted and beautiful in the lightening of the sky, and Shran wondered if Archer could really see its beauty, or how very much it represented all of Andoria.

Archer was looking off into the horizon as well, his eyes almost the same color as the bluish-green ice they rested upon.  “The view is amazing, Shran.”

“I thought you might think so.”  Shran didn’t relax much, the cold of Andoria a stark contrast to the heat of the human beside of him.  “It’s a good thing you did today, Archer.”

Archer chuckled in a self-deprecating fashion.  “I’m not sure just how good it can be if your six-year-old is looking at completing the same task in a year’s time.”

Shran laughed softly, glancing over the edge and the long way down.  “She will be doing so in two of your earth months.  Time is different here, pinkskin.”

“Not always a concept we Terrans remember, unfortunately,” Archer admitted.  “And what does Jhamel think of Talla doing this?”

Shran didn’t respond for a moment.  It stretched long enough that Archer wondered if he would or not.

The sun was a yellowish-blue half-circle on the horizon when Shran finally spoke.

“Jhamel went back to her people,” Shran said quietly.  “It is tradition, with their people, that the child is raised by the father to ensure independence and clarity of thought.  Even though I do not possess their telepathic abilities, I am still Talla’s father.  Their kind believe having a mother too present in the child’s upbringing will muddle their thoughts and coddle them, as it were.”

Archer nodded slowly.  “In our society, it’s quite different.  We believe that having two parents present in a child’s life represents balance.”

“These are the differences, pinkskin.  You wished to learn more of alien cultures; that is another lesson on Andorians.”  Shran glanced at him in curiosity.  “Two parents, you say?  I have done some limited reading on Terra.”  He didn’t mention it was more “extensive” than “limited”.  “And I see that your species only has two genders.”

“And yours has four; what of it?”

“We have four only to marry.  With Jhamel being Aenarian, things are different.  In your species, either gender may marry the other?”

Archer looked a little surprised by the inquiry.  “We do not discriminate, no.  We celebrate marriages and relationships, loving homes and that sort of thing.”

“And are you in any sort of relationship, Archer?” Shran asked, one antenna twitching slightly toward the base.

Raising an eyebrow, Archer turned away from the sunrise and looked at Shran in question.  “Why do you ask?”

Shran gave a huff more than a sigh.  “I believe it is customary in your culture to ask such a thing before you court them?”

Archer choked on his own saliva.  “You want to… _court_ me?” he sputtered.

“When you say it like _that_ …”

“No, no, I’m just…well, I’m surprised,” Archer responded honestly.  He rubbed a hand over his mouth.  “Very surprised.  I’m afraid I don’t know much about your…mating rituals.”

Shran snorted.  “There isn’t much to know, pinkskin.”

“One might think if you would like to court a person, you would stop referring to your intended by a derogatory term.”

“You don’t understand, do you?” Shran asked, and he suddenly sounded extremely tired.

Archer looked at him again.  “But—“

“Come on, pinkskin.  We should climb down before the sun gets any higher.  The ice will become slippery.”

As Shran busied himself putting the gear back together, Archer stood as well and wondered what, exactly, he had said wrong.  Shran was giving nothing up, however, and Archer reluctantly said nothing else either on the matter as they steadily made their way back down the ice cliff.

Back on the ship, Archer stared pensively out of the porthole in his quarters.  Porthos sniffed his boots suspiciously before jumping up to the bed and lying on a pillow.  He was beginning to think that “pinkskin” wasn’t necessarily meant to be insulting anymore.

XXXXXXXXXX

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Notes: I swear, there’s a sequel. I wanted two of the prompts to be related, so think of this as just part one. A link will be provided to part two.
> 
> Fun fact: This was the original idea for this prompt. When I originally set out to do the 40 snapshots table again, I actually made an outline for five different fandoms and came up with ideas for each individual prompt for each fandom. So, 200. Yeah. I’m…ambitious?
> 
> In any case, I’ve obviously gone a different way with it in that I’m cherry-picking the ideas that had any merit and writing them. This one just wouldn’t leave, nor would its sequel. Hope you enjoyed!
> 
> Shout-out to Tzigany because let’s be fair here—I haven’t written Archer/Shran in nearly a year because I’ve been caught up with other stuff. If it hadn’t been for Tzigany’s awesome reviews (which are a work of art), I don’t think I would’ve felt pushed to at least push out a few more of these.
> 
> So, lots of thanks to Tzigany once more because I needed a kick in the pants. Hope you liked!


End file.
